part I: Normandie

Oh great region of the north,
as we drove towards you we stopped in a little town
to wander about the blooms,
and waterways first imagined
(planted and painted) by Claude Monet,
then off again we set for a week in a wooden house
with wattle and daub walls -
amidst rolling countryside, apple trees,
and then to the sea
to remember brave men
and contemplate the quiet
breath of monks about an abbey,
Oh the rain we felt,
butter we ate,
wheat we saw,
thousand-year old tapestry,
enchanted forests,
tasting rhubarb cidre in a tiny barn,
walking about narrow streets, cobbled,
and awash with flowers,
bartering for berries at the market,
and the sight of my mama in the sunshine,
and the feel of my baby boy,
we talked, read books, drank tea,
ate fresh cheese,
raspberries, brioche, 
and butter
Oh normandy butter,
where have you been all my life?